


Heart of Ice

by Altitude_8



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Sad times, Stuff happens for a reason, There will be an an Iron Man, Tony mentors Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-23 20:26:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18557221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altitude_8/pseuds/Altitude_8
Summary: Jon Snow needed help. Tony Stark was the cousin of his father, Lord Edward Stark of Winterfell. Together, the two will join to prepare Westeros for the Long Night with a new weapon that will alter the world forever.





	1. Chapter 1

11 Years Ago

“Now, now Jon. Why would you throw that perfectly good piece of steel across my workshop?” Asked the Lord of Anvil Hall to his young cousin.

“Nothing I try works. No matter what I do I can’t make it into a sword.” The boy’s lower lip wobbled, and he tried to wipe away the tears threatening to spill.

“Jon... I...” Tony did not know how to react. Then it came to him. “Jon, how old are you?”

“Did-did you forget?” Tears spilled over his lashes as he sniffled.

“No, Jon. I haven’t forgotten. But I feel like you have. Now tell me, how old are you?”

“I just had my eighth name-day.”

“That’s right. You are eight years old. Nobody was perfect at anything when they were eight.”

“But-but you make such good armor and-and weapons and-”

“Jon, as much as I hate to say it, I’m not perfect, but do you know what I’m doing whenever I lift a hammer or shape a piece of steel?”

A look of concentration crossed over Jon’s face as he tried to think. “No?”

“I’m practicing. do you think Arthur Dwayne was born able to wield a sword? Or Tywin Lannister able to command an army the first time he tried? No. The Sword of the Morning spent hours in the yard, Tywin Lannister hours in a study, and I hours in a forge, each of us training our respective parts of ourselves to be the tool we needed it to be. Your body is a tool, and you must first practice before you can wield it like a master. Practice makes perfect, Jon.”

The boy smiled, and moved over to hug his cousin. Tony reached down and lifted him up. “Now, how about we get back to work?”

......

Now Jon Snow held his head in his hands as he took a break from his work. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pain from the headache that had become a part of him since he had assumed his role as Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He had just let scores of the Free Folk through the Wall, and while he knew it was right, most of the men under his command seemed to fail to grasp that simple concept. The wildlings weren’t their enemies, the dead were. Ghost lay his head in Jon’s lap, and he took the opportunity to scratch behind the direwolf’s ears.

As he massaged his head with one hand and pet Ghost with the other, Olly came bursting into his quarters. “Lord Commander, there is a wilding outsidewho wants to see ya. Says he knows your uncle.”

“Benjen?” Asked Jon, shooting up, knocking his chair over in the process.

“Aye.” Jon rushed out, forgetting to even grab a coat, though it would be Longclaw he would wish he had picked up. Ghost bounded after him.

Olly led him into the courtyard, where he could see a cluster of his brothers. He pushed through them to the center, but froze as he saw no man covered in animal pelts. Only a sign, reading traitor. A whine cut through the air, and he whirled around to see Ghost go down, a cross bow bolt buried in his side.

“NO!” He screamed, before the first dagger took him in the stomach. He stared up into the beady eyes of Ser Alliser Thorne. He felt the blade twist in his gut.

“For the watch,” the man said before yanking the dagger out, only for Bowen Marsh to replace him, then Othell Yarwyck, each stabbing and repeating the words. “For the watch.” “For the watch.” 

Then Olly stepped up. A boy Jon had taken in, treated like one of his lost siblings. He had loved him. Jon looked down from the hateful gaze, and watched his faithful companion bleed onto the snow, his beautiful fur turning red.

“Ghost,” he whispered, tears dripping down his face. The the last dagger pushed through leather, flesh and one, right into his heart. 

“For the watch.”

Jon tipped backwards into the snow, the last thing he heard before he faded into the blackness being a man shouting,“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!”

......

Tony Stark had been enjoying a quiet talk and drink with Ser Davos, each telling stories of the past. When Robb had called the banners, Tony hadn’t hesitated. He may have been a better blacksmith then a warrior, but he’d be damned if he let his young cousin march off to war alone. So he’d gathered what meager forces he had, and headed off to battle. He had stayed by Robb’s side throughout, repairing weapons and offering advice where he could. He had never been more proud to call himself a Stark then watching the wild boy he had known become a man, then lord, then king.

But then came the Red Wedding. He had urged Robb to send him to deal with Walder Frey, but Catelyn had been chosen instead. Tony was a haggler by nature. He could have gotten them a much better deal than what the Tully fished up for them, but no. Neither was he heeded when he told Robb to forget the Westerling girl. But even he could not have forseen the horror that had arisen from those mistakes. He was lucky to have left for the privy when he heard the shouts. Realizing what had happened, he had rushed to the stables, grabbed the first horse he could find, and got the hell away from the blood bath that the Twins had become.

He rode, and rode, and rode, stopping to make sure his horse wouldn’t drop dead. He rode to his own castle, only to find it burned, his people slaughtered. He tried Winterfell, but was warned away by some of the townsfolk who knew him. But Roose Bolton’s bastard still caught wind of his escape, so he was forced to sped months running and hiding throughout the North, the hunter’s never far behind. Finally, with nowhere left to go, he moved on to the Wall and Castle Black.

Luckily, the hunter’s had peeled off to return to Winterfell and face Stannis Baratheon’s army. He had come through the gates, fell off his horse, and awoken to the face of Jon Snow, the 998th Lord Commander. He had actually wept as he embraced his long lost cousin. He had thought he was safe.

He had not yet sworn his vows, but intended to do so as soon as he felt well enough. He had listened to everything Jon told him, and realized how much he needed help. On this night, Jon had sent him away in order to try and finish some letters and go over report, so he had come to the mess hall to find Ser Davos brooding in a corner over a cup of the piss they called ale up at the Wall. He had struck up conversation, and found the man reminding him somewhat of Ned, with the honor and honesty to match.

He was listening as Davos told the story of how he had been stranded on a rock after the Battle of Blackwater Bay when he heard the shout from outside. Some of the black brothers also in the hall rose to investigate, and as they stepped outside, he saw the body of Jon’s direwolf, Ghost, lying on the snow in a puddle of his own blood. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” He had screamed. The men scattered, and that’s when he saw something that chilled him more than any cold ever would. His beloved cousin, dying beneath a sign that read TRAITOR.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony, Davos, and the five brothers who came out with them rushed forward. Tony knelt next to Jon, pulling him up and hugging him close. “Nonononono.”

“We need to get him inside,” said Davos. “Help me lift him.”

“Don’t forget Ghost,” Grenn cut in. He and another brother lifted the direwolf onto their shoulders. The men hurried to Jon’s quarters, sweeping off two tables to lay the bodies down. 

“The fuckers,” said Dolorous Edd. “Why?”

“He let the wildings in,” said Satin. 

“But he didn’t have a choice,” said Pyp. Iron Emmett had busied himself looking for something, anything that could help them. Tony leaned against the door in shock. The boy who he had taught to smith, who would spend his namedays at Tony’s home because it was the only place he felt accepted, who he had watched grow into a man, was dead. 

“They’ll come for him,” said Davos. That snapped Tony out of his stupor.

“Over my dead body,” he growled.

“I do think that’ll be the idea,” said Pyp. Edd glare at him.

“Not helping.”

“Do you have any other brothers that you can trust?” Asked Davos to Edd. He looked around, misery etched into the lines of his face.

“As of right now, the men in this room,” he groaned. “There was no way to see who was there, but I’ll be a walker if Thorne and his cronies weren’t the ones who are responsible.”

“There must be someone else,” muttered Tony. Then it came to him. “The wildlings.”

“What?”

“The wildlings. They could help us.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they could!” Pyp had caught on. “They owe their lives to Jon. He let them through the Wall. If anyone would help us, it’ll be them.”

“Who will get them?” Emmett asked.

“I’ll go,” Edd responded immediately. “I’m the best rider, and you’re gonna need someone quick.”

“Then get going. We don’t know how much time we’ll have,” Tony ordered. Edd swept out of the room. 

“Now what do we do?” Asked Grenn.

“We wait,” Davos replied. “And pray this works.”

“It truly is a hopeless situation,” began Pyp, “When one’s last hope lies in Dolorous fuckin’ Edd.”

.....

Satin had rushed out to the armory and returned with swords for them all. Iron Emmett sat in a corner, sharpening his blade. Davos was looking through the papers on Jon’s desk while Tony rested his head against the table where they had lain the body. Ghost was whining from his own table. They had tried pulling out the bolt, but they didn’t know what it had hit, and were worried they would do more harm then good.

“Lord Stark, could you come here?” Asked Davos. Tony raised his head, his eyes puffy and swollen.

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice breaking. He stood and wiped the tears off his cheeks. Clearing his throat he tried again. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“You’ve studied magic, right?” 

“Yeah, during a brief stint in Oldtown. What, did you find something?”

“Maybe. But I can barely read myself, and this is all beyond me. Could you take a look?” Davos handed the papers to Tony, who began flipping through them. 

“Well?” Satin asked. “What do they say?”

“I don’t quite know. He was studying the magic of the Wall and looking through old myths for anything on the Others. It looks like he wanted to try to somehow weaponize the Wall, with something more effective then catapults and scorpions.”

“This one has Oates about the Night King on it,” said Pyp, holding out another paper.

“The Night King? Who’s that?” Davos inquired.

“That’s what the wildlings call the leader of the Walkers,” answered Grenn.

“Well, there’s also Night’s King,” added Emmett.

“And who in the seven hell is that?” Davos asked, more confused. “Sounds like the same person.”

“Well Jon seems to think they were, or...are,” Tony answered, looking over the papers. “The Night’s King was a Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, who fell in love with what seems to be a female White Walker. He brought her through the Wall, set himself up in the Nightfort, and declared himself the Night’s King, and her his queen. They bound his brothers to their will, and reigned for several years. It took the King in the North and the King-Beyond-the-Wall working together to defeat him.”

“Okay, but why would Jon have notes on them? How does it help us?’’ Emmett asked.

“He seems to think that they drew from the power of the Wall. He was wondering if it maybe that power could be harnessed again and used against the Others. He even has notes on...’’ Tony trailed off here, his eyes widening as he scanned down the pages.

“What?”

“Lord Stark, are you alright?”

“What do they say?”

“Jon...he...”

“What?” Davos exclaimed. “What do they say?”

“Jon tried to use the Wall to raise the dead as well,” Tony whispered.

“WHAT!”

“Bull shit.”

“Jon would never-”

“So that’s what he was doing.” Everyone turned to Satin. 

“Wait, when?”

“He would often go down to the ice cells. He filled a tub with pieces of the Wall, brought me and Olly with him, and sometimes would disappear for hours at a time. He’d saved some bodies from the battles against the wildlings. Olly and I weren’t allowed in, but he always came out frustrated. We had no idea what he was doing down there. Heh. Now we know.”

“Why would he do that?” Grenn asked.

“Yeah, I thought he wanted to fight the dead, not raise them,” Pyp added.

“He was trying to raise back soldiers, to help,” Tony guessed. He looked through the papers again. “Yep, just as I thought. He thought the magics of the Wall could be used to make sure that they remained normal, or at least would obey orders.” He shuffled through the papers. “However, it seemed like there were no successful trials. He used lots of different runes, harnesses, different quantities of the ice, but none of it seemd to be enough. Lots of the notes end with ‘Need more power’.”

“Well, the idea is not without it’s merits, but still seems risky,” said Davos.

“Sounds like a load of horse shit to me,” grunted Emmett. 

“I don’t know, having our own zombies would be pretty cool,’’ Pyp said. Then he grinned. “Pun fully intended.” At that, everyone groaned, but smiled. Leave it to Pyp to lighten the mood.

“Wait, Davos,” Tony suddenly cut in. “Is that Red Witch still here.”

“Lady Melisandre? Aye, she’s in the castle,” Davos confusedly responded. “Why?”

Tony grinned, a light coming into his eyes that had not been there since Robb had been crowned King in the North. “I think we just found our power source.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment what you think, and tell me if there’s anything style wise I could improve on. Looking for a beta.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment on what I can improve on. Looking for a beta.


End file.
